


when i’m feelin' alone (you remind me of home)

by hopskipaway



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Genuinely Just Really Fluffy Fluff, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:29:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21960217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopskipaway/pseuds/hopskipaway
Summary: Within the walls of the palace, Princess Clarke of Arkadia lives a quiet and lonesome life.That is, until John Murphy waltzes into her life and changes it forever. She’s not complaining.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/John Murphy
Comments: 9
Kudos: 58
Collections: Chopped: Holiday Trope Exchange 1.0





	when i’m feelin' alone (you remind me of home)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ProbablyVoldemort](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProbablyVoldemort/gifts).



> CHOPPED: HOLIDAY TROPE EXCHANGE - dedicated to kee.
> 
> TROPE 1: royalty au  
> TROPE 2: marriage pact  
> TROPE 3: clumsy character  
> TROPE 4: roommates
> 
> title is from the masterpiece that is christmas tree farm by tswift.

The snow, soft and twinkling in all its magic, called to her. It beckoned her to reach out and catch a flake, to run out and twirl around until it completely dusted her golden hair and the cold air made her cheeks glowing and rosy. It urged her to-

“Roll up the window and sit back, honey.”

Of course, Princess Clarke Cornelia Elizabeth Griffin the II of Arkadia did not get to do something as mundane and childish as play in the snow.

Being the sole heir of the Griffin throne, a lot of responsibility was placed on the girl from a young age. Despite being only eight years old, she was expected to act like the textbook definition of a perfect lady at all times. Well, she was expected to be, but that is not to say she always did. As evident by the tongue she stuck out at her mother before putting her earbuds in, drowning out the outside world for the rest of the drive.

Clarke only deigned to check back in with reality when the car came to a stop. She exited the vehicle and let out a sigh. Looking up at the looming building, she felt a change in the air. She always felt that way when they visited New Hope Orphanage. While she often secretly complained about her life, she knew that she had it much easier than some. Her family always did a tour of the small kingdom around the holidays, making sure to stop in and lend a hand at all where they can. She enjoyed the animal shelter the most. It was always her mission to convince her parents to allow her to adopt a little dog or cat, she hoped it would make the palace halls a little less lonely but had yet to be successful. Her least favourite was always the orphanage. It made her feel uncomfortable, especially with the stares she got from the other children brimming with sadness and envy. Though at first the visits had been fun; it was like having a playdate, which had always been few and far between for her, but as she grew older the reality of the situation set in.

Her parents rushed out ahead of her to seek out Vera, the woman who ran the place. They walked up the stairs, and through the big double doors. The building itself was old and worn down, brick and foundation having seen better days, and the festive wreath on the door did not do much to bring any cheer.

“Pardon us, coming through!” A strong voice called out from behind her before a man and a woman walked up the steps, boxes and bags in tow.

Trailing behind, a boy who looked close to be Clarke’s age. He seemed to be struggling to carry the number of containers he deemed appropriate for his small frame to carry.

“Need a hand?” She found herself asking.

“Nah.” He replied dismissively, “I got thi-“

The boxes went flying in all directions, their transporter having gotten tangled up in his own feet. When the man from before approached, he let out a good-natured chuckle.

“Are the cookies alright?”

“What about me? I’m your flesh and blood!”

“If that hadn’t been the third time today you’ve wiped out, I’d be a little more concerned.” The man reached out a hand to pull the boy up, “At this point, I think it's just part of your charm, Johnny.”

The boy, Johnny, let out an indignant huff before picking himself up off the ground. He shot a displeased look at Clarke, as if she had willed him to fall. The boy’s father shifted his gaze towards the victim of the glare, and his eyes widened in shock when he realized just who he was in the presence of.

“Oh! Your majesty! Is that- is that the right term still?” He lowered himself into a stiff bow. “I can never seem to keep up with-“

“Hi. I’m Clarke.” With a strained smile, she stuck her hand out to greet the man. The young girl always felt so uncomfortable the way the public fawned over her; in her eight years of life, she didn’t think she had really done anything to deserve this kind of attention.

“Here ya go, _Clarke_.” A couple of boxes were unceremoniously shoved into her arms. Perhaps a little bit of flattery would be nice.

Though she really ought to see where her parents went to. With an awkward wave of her hand, she made her way up the stairs.

Though not before hearing a hissed, “John Murphy!”

❅❅❅

Over the years, Clarke would hear many _John Murphy’s_ from his doting parents. How the son of a sweet baker and a generous charity founder turned out to be such a devil, she’d never know. Clarke suspected he was switched at birth, and the real John Murphy was somewhere on the other side of the kingdom.

Though, to his credit, Clarke’s most dreaded visit of the year began to be the one she most looked forward to. The Murphy’s toy drive was always a big hit, probably due to Alex Murphy’s heavenly cookies that were handed out freely during the holiday season. To Clarke, this meant that year after year she managed to always see the demon masquerading as a human boy. The two kept up correspondence via letter, Murphy’s family not wanting to spend unnecessary money on a cell phone for the boy, but nothing could compare to the fun they had together in person each year. The letters had stopped coming earlier on in the year, and Clarke had to assume the boy had changed addresses and forgot to tell her. Typical.

She hoped this year would be the most fun yet. At age twelve, Clarke had noticed some changes going on with some of her friends. Especially Wells, whose voice had began cracking at the most inopportune moments. She hoped the same was happening to John.

Racing up the familiar stairs, Clarke caught sight of a tell-tale tuft of mahogany hair and did not hesitate to jump on John’s back. Her mother chastised her for acting so unladylike, but the criticism was lost on her when John spoke.

“Just leave me alone, _Princess_. You’re good at that anyways.” He said with a hateful sneer.

Never before had John acknowledged her status. To Clarke, that was what made their friendship so special. It never felt like she had to put up an act and distance herself. Even with her closest friends, she was still Princess Clarke and they were often belonging of some high title themselves. Time arranged to play together were often only hidden behind pretense. More often than not, it was because there was some political feud to diminish, an agreement to come to; when those matters got resolved, so did Clarke’s chance of real friendship.

In their letters, Clarke felt free to complain about the duties and standards laid before her. In return, John told her all about regular life. In a way, she found herself living vicariously through him. She felt a secret thrill hearing about the latest schoolyard gossip, despite not even knowing the people in question. The more they got to know each other, the more Clarke longed for a life more suited to her. Some place she could finally feel at home.

To hear such a harsh tone from John was a shock to her system, and she felt as if a bucket of ice water was poured onto her head. Her mouth fell open in shock, trying to gather something to say back but she came up short. Instead, she walked off to find her parents and hoped this visit would be a short one. Clarke resigned herself to send him a letter later on, too prideful to ask what she might have done to upset the boy in person. If he had wanted to talk to her, surely, he would have reached out. She walked into the office to find a conversation that made her stomach drop.

“- Mr. Murphy has proved to be more than we can handle. We know its early days yet, but we simply are not equipped to deal with this type of behaviour. He’s been rather violent.”

“The boy’s parents died, just ten months ago. You can’t fault him for acting out.”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty-“

Vera cut herself off when she caught sight of Clarke, her contrite expression only growing deeper.

“Honey,” her mother started, “I guess you heard that, huh?” Her mother prompted.

Clarke felt as though her throat was full of glass and could only muster up a small nod in response. In that moment, she felt incredibly vain. She had just assumed their lack of communication was somehow John’s fault, but she didn’t stop to think that she should have checked in with the boy herself.

All she knew now is that she had to fix this. Somehow. She owed him that much.

❅❅❅

John had gone home with them that day, incited by Clarke and Jake Griffin.

They intended to share their Christmas with the boy. They canceled their plans to attend all the elaborate parties thrown by other royals to focus all their energy on the orphan. The Murphy’s had become dear friends to the Griffin’s, and their dismay at not hearing the news of their passing had left them with an insurmountable amount of guilt. A car accident of such stature was surly plastered all over the small town, but things like that don’t often reach their way up to the guarded gates of the royal palace.

They attempted to involve him in tree decorating, movie watching, and holiday shopping. Though he acted like a ghost, flitting through the house without really interacting with them. It was only when the family gathered in the kitchen to bake cookies did the boy let his shell crack open a bit. Clarke was in the middle of mixing up a batch of ginger snaps when John broke his silence.

“You’re not doing that right.”

A silence broke out in the room, the only noise being the faint Christmas music floating in from the living room.

“That’s not how he… Here, I’ll just show you.”

After that day, Clarke began to see more of the old John shining through. He began to look at her with that same glint in his eyes from before. John started to open up. Abby and Jake had a silent conversation, then, and it was decided.

John would stay.

They couldn’t blame him for being so upset at staying at the orphanage that must be brimming with memories of his parents. So, they wagered he could start somewhere new.

He moved into the East wing, currently only occupied by Clarke, shortly after the holiday season. His merger belongings looking out of place in the luxurious room.

Though he took to it well. Riding in the fancy black cars to attend school, and then coming back home and telling Clarke about all that would happen. Clarke found it far more entertaining to hear his impressions of his classmates than to simply read it in a letter. Murphy was trilled to have the bragging rights of living in a palace.

The two children quickly forbade anyone from coming into the East wing. They dubbed it _The Apartment_ , and there was to be no housekeepers or adults allowed. 

Over the years they had endless pillow fights, late night heated debates, and countless binge watches. For the first time in her life, Clarke felt an ounce of normalcy in her life. Murphy grounded her, and she started to think of her home less as the whole palace and more as only _The Apartment_. John quickly became her closest friend, though she would never let him know that fact. In a life full of turmoil and uncertainty, they gave each other an outlet to just be themselves. Clarke didn’t want anything to ever change.

❅❅❅

Clarke wasn’t sure when it happened.

But it did.

And it was bad.

When he had gone from the lanky, weasel-like kid with a nose to big for his face to, well, _this_ was unclear. She began to take note of his eyes, bright and shining and a shade as blue as the sky after a morning of rain. He filled out as he aged, and Clarke couldn't help but have silent appreciation for him. Clarke was no stranger to having crushes. There was Finn, the commoner boy who she once saw at a charity event when she was seven. They spoke briefly, and they never saw each other again, but Clarke swore she was in love. Then there was Lexa. That one still stung to think about. The other princess, older than Clarke by four years, had been married off this past year. She was happy for her, she really was, but part of Clarke broke when she thought about it. Though if she really thought about it, she would begin to see it was less about being jealous of Costia, and more about being jealous of both of them. Her mother was often reminding her that she should be keeping her eyes open for eligible suitors, and Clarke could only imagine it would get worse as the years went on. However, at only eighteen years old, Clarke felt as thought she had more pressing things to worry about than things like marriage and one day ruling Arkadia in the distant future.

Though sitting on the couch reading the same passage over and over, never retaining the words, wasn’t doing anything to help the current issues at hand. John Murphy, her pseudo-roommate of six years, had suddenly transformed into someone entirely different before her very eyes. She found herself captivated by the words he said, just like she had with Finn. When she saw him, a swarm of butterflies erupted in her stomach, just like they had with Lexa.

“Take a picture, I’ll last longer.”

Clarke was shocked out of her thinking and found herself looking directly at Murphy, gaze having drifted up from her book, wearing only a towel.

Clarke quickly diverted her eyes back down and began to try to read.

“What? No comeback?” Murphy interrupted again, “What’s eating you?

“Nothing.” Clarke tried to come off as nonchalant, but her stress bleed out into her words.

“That bad, huh?” Murphy flopped down to sit beside her. Clarke’s mind helpfully supplied: still only wearing a towel. His damp hair flopping into his eyes, Clarke had to fight the urge to brush them out of the way. “Tell ol’ Murphy about it.”

Over the years, John had decided he wanted to go by Murphy. Clarke found it odd at first, but when she considered it was perhaps a way to feel closer to his parents, she participated in it full-heartedly.

“My mother has been stressing me out lately. It’s been marriage this and marriage that. What if I don’t want to get married!”

When she looked up at Murphy, his eyes were fixed on her in a thoughtful expression.

“How about this: If you aren’t married by thirty, I’ll do it.”

“What?”

“Yeah yeah, I know what you’re thinking. Why would someone as amazing as me stoop so low?” He was momentarily cut off by an elbow in the abdomen. “Think about it! We can get married, I’ll let you paint fancy pictures all day while I slowly begin my takeover of the world, one kingdom at a time.”

“I- okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, why the hell not.”

Murphy thrust his pinkie out, “Swear on it.”

“I swear if I am a lonely old spinster, I’ll stomach it and marry you.”

As they sealed their fates with a promise, Clarke tried to school her face to be stone. Though she could feel her cheeks heating up and and the smile that threatened to show.

“Now hurry up, we got a party to get to.” Murphy patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I made sure to use up all the hot water.”

She couldn’t be too mad, perhaps a cold shower would do her good.

❅❅❅

“Hurry up Murphy!” Jasper hissed from the hallway.

“I’m coming, don’t get your panties all up in a twis-“

Rounding the corner, Murphy slipped on the shiny marble floor and the bottle went soaring out of his hands. Luckily, Monty caught it in time, but Murphy ended up tumbling into an armored statue.

“Shut _up_.” Clarke all but yelled, all sneakiness being evaporated by the wobbling young man anyways.

“Ah, no one would hear that over the music.”

“My dad was heading towards the kitchen!”

“I’m sure he didn’t hear us.” He did, though he decided to let the kids have fun. “I’m sneaky.” He wasn’t, though they decided to let Murphy live in delusion.

This holiday season had been particularly jam-packed with stuffy party after stuffy party, and the young royals had finally had enough. Monty Green’s parents were busy hosting in the ballroom and Monty and Jasper had devised a plan to sneak some alcohol and hide out in the basement for the rest of the night. It was evident how boring and stifling the party was by Well’s easy agreeance to break the rules. Clarke spread the word to Octavia, knowing the girl was always down for some debauchery, and Bellamy, her protective older brother.

They made it downstairs safely, and the drinks started flowing. After a while of just talking, Octavia decided they needed to make things more interesting with a game of Never Have I Ever.

With the majority of them living a sheltered life living under a microscope, it was safe to say Murphy got the most drunk.

Perhaps that was the reason casual touches were more prevalent between he and Clarke. He currently had one arm wrapped around her shoulder while the other sloshed his cup around, telling an elaborate version of the time he and Mbege got arrested. Clarke couldn’t focus on the words, though.

“Okay,” Octavia cut Murphy’s story short. “Never have I ever… had a crush on someone in this room!”

Clarke’s face heated up having to drink being so close to Murphy. She almost missed him taking a swig himself. Her heart fluttered for a second before she remembered she was in the presence of the Blake siblings; everyone seemed to have had a crush on one of the two at some point in their lives.

It was then Well’s turn, but he was floundering to come up with another topic.

“Enough of this game, let’s play truth or dare!” Jasper piped up.

“We aren’t babies, why are we playing baby games.” Murphy gracefully slurred out.

“Just for that, Murphy goes first,” Octavia decided. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare, I’m no,” a hiccup, “chicken.”

“Okay… I dare you to kiss Clarke!”

All that Clarke could produce was a series of sputters. She felt Murphy’s arm squeeze her shoulder before he guided her to face him.

“Awe, the princess is going to kiss the frog!” Someone shouted, but Clarke couldn’t make out who behind the pounding in her ears.

Murphy paused for a second, giving Clarke a questioning look, a faint blush rising to his cheeks - though Clarke chalked it up to all the alcohol. She nodded, despite knowing this would do nothing to help the predicament she was already in when it came to her feelings for Murphy.

He got closer and closer, the world seeming to work in slow motion. Until finally, after what seemed like eternity, he-

Smashed their foreheads together. The grip he had on the couch behind her had faltered and he was sent flying towards Clarke alarmingly fast for someone who was so inebriated. Before Clarke could comment, calling him out on his clumsiness, he shot forward again and planted a kiss on her. It was short and sweet, and it left a phantom of the young man’s lips on hers the rest of the night.

She really was screwed.

❅❅❅

That drunken kiss stayed on her mind for years. Four years to be exact.

At this point, her mother’s insistence to find a partner had reached critical levels, and Clarke had been paraded around all year meeting _Duke Whatever_ or _Lady Who_ _Cares_. She was sure they are all perfectly nice people she could have a perfectly nice life with. Unfortunately for them, Clarke was ruined for settling for perfectly nice when a man with a cutting smirk and even sharper personality crashed into her life sixteen years ago.

Her feelings, ones she once thought were just a silly crush, stayed. Murphy too, stayed. He continued to live in the palace, working in the kitchens after he successfully graduating from culinary school. He even stayed in the East wing with Clarke, and they kept up their traditions of late-night shenanigans. Clarke thought she noticed a change in their relationship. Fleeting glances and lingering touches, but she brushed it off as just imagining things because of her own hidden feelings. Clarke was sure Murphy thought of her as a friend, and nothing more.

As the years went by, she was having more and more trouble keeping her feelings a secret. Her parents getting frustrated by her reluctance to give anyone a chance. Murphy too, teased her. He said that she must be waiting for their pact to run out. If only he knew how right he really was.

Right now, standing talking to a man who’s accent she could hardly decipher, she only had eyes for Murphy.

He was saddled up to Jasper, probably teasing him about his recent engagement to Maya. She was always amazed at how easily he fit into this life. He could go from person to person and always get a laugh out of them. Clarke had been doing this her whole life, and yet here she stands: awkwardly sipping her wine and hoping she didn’t just agree to visit this man’s polar bear. At least Clarke knows for a fact that her parents wouldn't really be upset with her for not wanting to marry into Azgeda, so she didn’t feel so bad exiting the conversation rather rudely.

Her eyes scanned the room for Murphy, but he has left Jasper and ran off somewhere else.

“Looking for someone?” Murphy murmured in her ear, head resting on her shoulder.

“Pity. I thought you finally bit the dust and I could be rid of you once and for all.”

“Nah, you’re stuck with me, Princess.” He chuckled. “But what do you say to blowing this popsicle stand?”

A set of keys enter Clarke’s line of vision.

“What? How did you get those?”

“Sticky fingers. Let’s go.”

He linked their arms together and pulled her through the crowd of people.

“Shouldn’t we stay? I mean this is for _charity_ , Murphy.”

“I’m helping a poor, poor Princess escape a day full of god-awful conversations. That’s charity.”

They made it to the car without suspicion, and Murphy opened her door for her in a rare moment of chivalry. Clarke tried to make her mind stop running with this turn of events. Her and Murphy were leaving, together, alone. Sure, they were functionally alone often enough – but there was always a team of security in the corner of their eyes.

Murphy started the vehicle and took off racing. Clarke laughed, the rush of what was happening catching up to her.

“What the hell are we doing?”

“It’s a secret.”

“How do you even know where you are going?”

“I lived here when I was young, before we moved and I met you. I haven’t been back since.” He admitted quietly.

Clarke felt a satisfaction in the fact that Murphy willingly shared that information with her. He wasn’t normally so open with people, and it made her feel special.

“What if people recognize me?”

“The lady is rather full of herself, me thinks. Trust me, the people in this town don’t give two shits about the royals. No offense.”

“None taken.” She said with a loud laugh.

“Though I brought an extra sweater for you. Might blend in well if you look more… normal.”

A short drive later, they arrived at a park. Clarke felt cozy and warm in the sweater Murphy had brought, and she felt a sense of comfort that it was one of his sweaters - it still smelled like him. Though it did nothing to help the fact that her brain was still running wild with its fantasies that this was a date.

When Murphy walked up to a booth on the edge of the lake and requested two set of skates, Clarke let out a snort.

“Problem?”

“I can’t skate, and judging by the fact you can’t even walk, I highly doubt you can either.”

“Very funny.” Murphy directed Clarke to sit down on a bench, and he kneeled on the ground to help her into her skates before putting on his own.

He helped her stand up, Clarke feeling very much like a newborn deer. They hobbled over to the frozen lake, and Clarke was shocked into silence as the man left her alone to teeter at the edge of the frosty floor.

Murphy could skate. Not just that, Murphy was _good_ at skating. She’d never seen him stand so solidly on two feet before, but here he was: gliding and twirling around with ease. It was as if he was made of the ice, and ever moment spend on solid earth was torture. Though here, he was free. Clarke couldn’t help but think it was a good look him him; his smile carefree and wide and hair, often flopping down in the way, blowing away from his surprisingly handsome face.

They spent the whole afternoon on the ice. Much of it spent hand in hand, Clarke not wanting to fall on her butt. Though Clarke eventually did gain enough confidence to let go of her vice grip on his hand and skate by herself. The resulting cheering and hug from Murphy made her head rush. She couldn’t remember the last time she had so much fun, if ever.

Eventually, they tired out and Clarke felt a sense of dread knowing that they would have to turn back before someone came looking for her.

Murphy surprised her again when instead of driving back to the event, he pulled up to a homey looking coffee shop.

“Me and my dad used to come here all the time.” He smiled at her, turning off the ignition. “I want to show it to you. Plus, they have the best hot chocolate you’ll ever taste.”

The interior of the shop was almost overflowing with Christmas decorations, and the fireplace warmed her up immediately. The smell of coffee and baked goods enveloped her, and she found herself wanting nothing more than to sink down into the comfy looking chair in the corner.

Murphy nudged her to do so and he went up to the counter to get their drinks. He came back with drinks and some delicious looking cookies and took a seat next to her. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, before something in Clarke urged her to speak.

Perhaps it was the magic of Christmas getting to her, the soft snow falling outside, the hot chocolate warming her from the inside, the crooning voices singing tales of love and joy. The ghosts of Christmas future possessing her to act before she spent the rest of her life in misery. Whatever it was, she felt like she couldn’t hold herself back.

“Murphy?”

“Yes, Clarke?”

“How old are you?”

“What?” He fixed a quizzical look on her. “I’m twenty-four you idiot. Same as you.”

“I feel like I’m thirty.”

“Oh god she’s gone crazy, I stole a Princess and gave her hot chocolate that apparently killed all her brain cells and now I’m going to be arrested for my crimes and spend the rest of my life rotting in a cold hard-“

Clarke cut him off with a hand on his jaw and a kiss on his lips.

He was shocked still for a moment before one of his hands reached up to gently tangle itself up in her hair. They broke apart after what felt like a lifetime, and a soft blush coloured both of their cheeks.

“So you…” He trailed off.

“Love you? Yes.”

“Oh.” In all the years of knowing him, Clarke had never seen Murphy at such a loss for words.

“You’re infuriating and annoying and stupid and the most graceless person I’ve ever met, and I love you.” She felt years of stress and anxiety leave her at once. “You make me laugh like no one else, you know me more than anyone else on this Earth, you are sweet even if you’d try to deny it. I don’t want to marry some boring Prince or Princess. I don’t care if my parents approve. I want you, John Murphy, and I can’t spend another moment pretending I don’t.”

“Oh.”

“If you don’t feel the same way can we please just pretend this didn’t-“

It was her turn to be cut off with a kiss.

“Of course I love you,” He sounded exasperated. “I always have.

Clarke felt as though her cheeks were going to permanently be pulled up into a smile, and she was okay with that. She realized she really _didn’t_ care what her parents or the public would think. She’s always thought the royal reign was outdated anyways, so perhaps she’d be the one to bring change. She and Murphy could run away together to live in a little town just like this one, and paint and argue and kiss their days away. Though none of that mattered right now. All she cared about was this moment, so perfect and pure that she wanted to live in it forever. Nothing could ruin it.

"Honestly, how oblivious are you? It would have to take a real idiot to not notice my honest to god pining. Even _Jasper_ knew about it.”

“Okay! Uncalled for! That's it! I take it all back.”

“Too late. You’re stuck with me now.” Further conversation was cut short to make room for kisses and touches filled with years of pent up emotions finally, _finally_ , coming to the surface.

❅❅❅

Later leaving the coffee shop, with her cheeks rosy and cold, and snow in her hair, she’d come to realize that there was a reason she’d felt so lonely all those years. She had been waiting for him.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed this! i also hope you had a very happy holiday, and will have an even better new year. much love to ya!
> 
> come teach me to ice skate on [twitter](https://twitter.com/hopskipaway) or [tumblr](https://hopskipaway.tumblr.com/).


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